Finding Harry
by xxhannahbananaxx
Summary: Abby Weasley (or Potter, as her proper name should be) has always been the odd girl out in her family; every one else has the trademark Weasley red hair, but hers is black. She has the only green eyes in the whole clan, which mother said belonged to her
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and Narnia and all of its inhabitants belong to C.S. Lewis. Please R&R!

"Come on, you don't want to be late for your first day of school, do you?" I followed my distracted Mother across the muggle platform of King's Cross station, struggling to drag my heavy trolley along with me. It probably weighed about as much as I did. In her wobbling cage, my small tawny owl, Cecily, hooted reproachfully while glaring at me through eyes of deep amber and ruffling her feathers.

I was just about to begin my very first year at Hogwarts, as were my twin siblings James and Katelin. We're triplets, actually--and we don't look alike at all. James has auburn hair; Katelin has the hair I wish I had: straight, tameable, red hair like our mum. And I have black hair, wild and "quite often tangled as a blackberry bush" as my mother says. No one else in my family has hair like mine, or anything remotely similar to my bright green eyes. Everyone in the Weasley family has red hair—well, I'm not exactly a Weasley, but my mum is. And my brother and sister might as well be counted as Weasleys too, 'cause they fit right in, hair colour and everything. I'm a true Potter—Abigail Molly Potter, but more commonly known as just Abby; and even if my acceptance letter to Hogwarts said _Weasley_, to me my true surname is _Potter_. Mum told me that my father had messy jet black hair too and the same green eyes as me . . . but I've never met him, I wouldn't know. I'd never even so much as seen a picture of him. I've just figured that since I don't fit in with anyone from my family, I reckon I'd fit in with my dad, if he were still here.

What I've heard is that my father, Harry Potter, was killed by a loony Death Eater a few years after he had defeated the Dark Lord. He was already engaged to my mum and they had well . . . you know. Mum was a few months pregnant with us when he was called suddenly into London during the Christmas hols for a Ministry crisis. I think they had a break-in, or something. My father must have met up with the criminal while he was there, because well, he never came home.

Now, I said before that I'm about to begin my first year at Hogwarts—that may be true, but I'm most certainly not eleven years old—I'm nearly thirteen-and-a-half, so we'll all be third years in school. James, Katelin, and I were home schooled for not just those two, socially-deprived school years, but every socially-deprived year since we were about five and began moving around the world to different places. I suppose Mum just wasn't happy here, because every little thing reminded her of our dad, and thinking of our lost father made her absolutely miserable. We've been nearly everywhere—Germany, Ireland, Italy, America, China, even New Zealand for a few months. And we've always come to visit our family here, of course. But somehow we've ended up living back in Great Britain, because Mum wants us to get "proper schooling." I'm not going to argue since I wouldn't mind a few real friends that weren't James, Katelin, or some old sheep that was living next door (which had actually happened to me once in Pakistan—I was desperate!).

"Here we are!" called Mum breathlessly and looking deeply frazzled. She hesitated at the barriers and glanced with anticipation at her old wristwatch with the oriental-looking planets and moons on it. "Oh dear," she said, more to herself than to anyone else, "you three will miss the train if we don't . . ." She glanced up at me and her eyes flickered to my left and right. I followed her gaze blankly, and saw empty spaces on either side of me, where my twins should have been. _Uh-oh. _

"Abby, _where_ on _earth_ are James and Katelin?!" Mum asked with an air of intense exasperation that I only knew too well as meaning, "_I know you know what they're up to . . ." _Of course I was being blamed for what Kate and James were up to, because that's what I was here for—I was the good one who took the rap for my siblings' mischief.

I just shrugged in response; that's about all you can do if you want to stay neutral. Of course, I knew perfectly well at the time that James and Katelin had stayed behind at platform 6 or so, but I didn't know what they were doing anyway. If my eyes could be trusted, then I had definitely seen them take something silvery out of James' trunk, but I hadn't really paid attention, so I suppose that counts for nothing.

"We _only_ have about ten minutes before the train leaves!" Mum exclaimed, gesturing wildly towards her wristwatch, where I could see the little planets and moons circling around each other at a fast pace. I could also see she was getting rather stroppy, and was beginning to look quite like this deranged old innkeeper in Scotland who'd gone all mad on us once because we'd spilled a shrinking potion all over his foot . . . but that's another story.

Only _ten minutes?_ Merlin, Mum always got so stressed about _everything_. "They're probably still back there." I responded innocently, jutting my thumb behind me. "I'll go find them."

"Alright, but please try and hurry, because if you miss the train I am NOT driving you three there!"

_Right, as if I wasn't worried enough already . . ._

So I sprinted past barrier after barrier, dodged a snogging couple near platform 13, and nearly crashed headlong into my tall, gangly, red-headed cousin Tyler, who was on his way to platform 9 and ¾ with his family. Tyler was going into his fifth year at Hogwarts, while his younger sister Sienna was going to be a second year.

"Hey Abby!" he said amusedly as I was passing. "Just so you know, the platform's this way." He pointed in the direction I was running from.

I slowed down enough to catch my breath and allow my exhausted legs a short break. "I—know." I wheezed, clutching my stomach before I got sick. That would have guaranteed us a missed train. "But Katelin a—and James are—still back—around platform—6, I think. Have you—seen them?" I asked hopefully.

Tyler frowned with a weird glint in his eyes. "Yeah, but I didn't really _see _them. They—"

"Tyler _Weasley_!" called his mother from a distance ahead. Honestly, why do all mothers have to get like this about time? "If you don't hurry, you'll be late!"

Tyler gave me an apologetic grin, and hastily added in an undertone, "Good luck _seeing_ them," before he hurried over to his anxious parents and sister.

_Fat lot of help _he _was_, I thought while scowlingI continued on anyway in the direction opposite the one Tyler had taken and puzzled over what he had said. _I didn't really _**see**_ them . . . good luck _**seeing**_ them . . . _oh Merlin, the invisibility cloak!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a ripple in the air behind me. Something tugged on one of my long braids, which confirmed my suspicions that my brother and sister are true prats.

"Oww!" I whispered exasperatedly, probably looking like a real idiot for talking to the empty space near me. "You _gits_, what are you doing in the cloak in broad daylight on a muggle platform!"

James appeared out from under the cloak, followed by Katelin, looking nervously around to make sure that no muggles had noticed the two children that had appeared out of thin air. "We were just trying it out to see if it still works." He said, grinning mischievously.

"We haven't used it in ages," agreed Katelin.

I sighed again, not bothering to point out that they could've just done that on the train. "You two are really beginning to remind me of Uncle Fred and Uncle George." I looked at my watch and groaned. "And we have less than three minutes to get back to the platform and on the train!!"

James stuffed the cloak into his trunk and wheeled his trolley around. Katelin followed suit. "Let's go then!" he said.

The three of us sprinted at full speed (Katelin and James having the disadvantage of their trolleys) and finally came to a sharp halt between platforms nine and ten.

Mum was pacing and had an expression of severe worry on her face, with her eyebrows knitted together and everything, which cleared up when she spotted us. "Thank goodness!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around my sister and brother. "I thought something bad had happened!"

Katelin and James exchanged nervous glances with me and I shook my head. "No, they were just… they got lost in the crowd." I finished quickly, trying my hardest not to giggle at the over-exaggerated thankful look James sent me. _I really am a good sister._

"Well, you three had better hurry—the train leaves in a minute!"

We all said our goodbyes, Mum's being very tearful, and James, Katelin and I strode through the barrier.

A shrill, loud whistle pierced the air, and the scarlet Hogwarts Express began to trudge slowly forward—_without_ us on it.

"Damn!" James yelled as we ran to catch it before it sped up any further, with the combined weight of our big trolleys slowing us down as well as them hitting the back of our knees, making us nearly trip. Being the smallest of all three of us, I had a difficult time catching up to my taller, faster siblings. When I parted from the crowd of parents and had a clear view of the moving train, I saw that James and Katelin had already hopped onto the back car and had just managed to lug their trunks along with them. I pushed myself to run as fast as I could, but the train was quickly picking up speed! I was almost there, nearly a metre away from the back railing and I made a grab for Katelin's hand--but I couldn't possibly stretch my arm that far, or it would've come out of its socket. I fell forward onto my hands and knees. The pavement scraped my hands, and dark red blood trickled out in various spots. Fortunately, I was wearing jeans, so my knees weren't scratched, though they did ache really badly from the fall.

I got gingerly to my feet, prepared to run as fast as I ever had in my life; but the train had already left the tunnel, and I couldn't even hear it whistle anymore, or see the great cloud of steam it issued from the top. It was all gone.

I could've just about died, right there. I had missed the Hogwarts Express, and the barrier, the only way back, had just closed._ Great. Now I'm stuck here until Christmas._

I wracked my brain for a brilliant plan of escape. Hmm, well, Uncle Ron had told me something similar that had happened to him and my father in their second year: the barrier had closed on them and they had missed the train as well. What had they done?—Oh yeah, they flew to school in Grandad's car . . . _they flew to school on a flying car . . . they flew to school . . ._

A _lumos_ spell had shed light on my brain. They'd _flown _to school! I could fly to school on a broom!

That's went I remembered that I didn't own a broom anymore, because mine had broken two years ago. Yay for me and my _brill_ ideas! I groaned loudly and slid down against a wall, defeated. It felt like something large and stony had lodged itself in my throat, and I could feel that sting behind my nose of oncoming tears. _Come on, Abby! Weasleys don't cry . . . _Potters_ don't cry . . ._ I didn't try to stop them from falling. Hot, salty teardrops rolled off my nose and cascaded onto the ground where they exploded like bombs. I collapsed into quiet sobs and hugged my knees—maybe I could find comfort there.

I'd been SO excited about Hogwarts! I had been looking forward to it ever since I was four, and Mum and Grandmum had told me all about it. Then I'd had to go on a stupid world tour and missed out on my first two years! Now I was stuck in this mess, and I would probably have to live here as a hobo for the rest of my life, and the students coming off the train would probably look at me with disgust and say, "What a dirty, stupid, pathetic thing, she never went to Hogwarts, no one likes her, and she has no money!" Even Kate and James would stalk by me with all their new friends and their noses in the air and sniff, "No way she's OUR sister . . ." Just like in my nightmares. _No, that would never happen, and you know it, Abby. _

The wind blew softly all around me, and I closed my eyes. I was just being dramatic . . . wasn't I?

"Be brave, Child," whispered a deep, unearthly voice next to me. I opened my eyes and started. If I had been sitting on a chair, I probably would've fallen off and ruined the whole moment. The voice seemed to belong to a _humung_ous golden lion, the most beautiful and the most terrible thing I had ever seen in my life.

He spoke once again, soft and reassuring. His dark eyes held no sympathy, yet were somehow . . . full of compassion, and kindness, and everything else that is good. "I will help you."

I stood back on my feet and tried to ignore the sharp needle-like pain in my knees; I rubbed my sore hands on my pant legs. I longed to go up and hug this beautiful creature for saving my life. But all that came out was an awkward, "Thank you."

But I was already far away by that time.

I seemed to be… _flying_ at first; but when I felt the warm wind travelling along with me, I realized the lion must be _blowing_ me or something.

It felt like hours that I was in the air. Finally, when dusk came, and I had begun feeling very chilly, I approached the Hogwarts Express from above and landed softly on the back car. I couldn't believe that only a few hours before, I had been trying to grab hold of my sister's hand to be pulled onto the departing train. I silently thanked the lion for letting me off here, rather than at Hogwarts, where I would have to walk and probably make an ass of myself striding into the Great Hall while everyone was eating dinner.

I slid open the door and went into the (fortunately, empty) compartment. Sitting down and sighing, I recalled the day's unusual events. Invisibility cloak, missing the train, being blown here by a talking lion… _My days usually aren't this action-packed._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own it! Any of it! Well, maybe the younger generation of characters, but since they're descended from J.K.'s, then I suppose they're hers too. :-P

A/N**: triquetraperson: Good guess, but there wouldn't be much of a story if Harry had been killed. But I'm not giving away anything . . . ;)**

**Avocado75: Thank you! :)**

Sorry this chappie took so long—I wrote about half of it and then came back to find all I'd done erased . . . bummer. :(

I heard a knock on the compartment door and proceeded in quickly putting on my first year-type robes. When I had finished, I strode over to the dark cherry wood door and slid it open revealing a very worried-looking cousin of mine.

"Tyler!" I cried in surprise and dropped my black tie, which I had been about to put on.  
He seemed just about, if not more, shocked to see me. "How--?" he said in awe, his light blue eyes nearly bulging out of his head, "James and Katelin said you had missed the train!"

"A li—" I was on the verge of telling him about the lion, but . . . what if he didn't believe me? I mean, anyone who went on about talking lions _blowing_ you onto a train would definitely seem to be barking mad. No, I couldn't tell him what had really happened. "I, er. I did catch the train," I began, trying very hard to think of a good lie . . . is it just me or do I have to lie a lot? . . . "It's just--erm--they had already left the compartment when I hopped on?" It had actually sounded more like a question, so to hide it I coughed and kneeled down to "tie my shoe."

I think Tyler knew I was lying--I'm really a terrible liar and also because my shoe didn't have laces. Tyler isn't top of his class for nothing . . . but if he did know, he didn't say anything, nor did he inquire any further.

"So, er, where _are_ James and Katelin?" I asked hastily, to change the subject once I had stood up again.  
"They're in the front car," Tyler smirked coyly, "and they should be doing their last-minute homework, but they're so worried about you that I doubt they are. And then, there's that very big chance that a certain Slytherin git's paraded in on them; partly why I left them in the first place. He always tends to "run into" our family on the train the first day, doesn't he? I didn't want to get involved in anything, 'cause he's a Prefect this year." He said that last bit a little darkly, because if he really was Aunt Hermione's son, then he surely had wanted to become Prefect as well.

I sniffed disdainfully, just thinking of that evil family whom we've despised for so long. I'd never met Draco Malfoy in person, but I'd heard dreadful stories about that stupid bloody man, and his son as well. I'd actually met his son, Damian, who was a few years my senior, once before. I was very young; it was back when we still lived in England originally. A shiver ran up my spine . . . no, I was not about to repeat what he'd done then, even in my mind.

Tyler sat down on a three-person bench and stretched his long arms and legs in luxury, making me giggle lightly. Tyler obviously had inherited his tall frame from his father—another Weasley trait, I thought sullenly, that James and Katelin had that I didn't.

Tyler retrieved a chocolate from his pocket and offered with a full mouth, "Want one?" but it came out sounding more like, "Wa'un?" Yuck, I hated chocolate frogs; they always made me feel like I was eating a real one, fresh from a mud puddle. I shook my head no and wrinkled my nose. He shrugged and proceeded to eat his anyway, holding up its glittering wizard card over so he could see what famous wizard was on it. Tyler let out a surprised noise and he began to choke on his mucky mouthful of chocolate.  
"Wow!" he exclaimed once he'd forced the frog down his throat. "Abby, look at this!"

I sat down next to him and glanced disinterestedly at the card. I didn't collect wizard cards obviously since I wasn't too fond of chocolate frogs, so whoever it was was probably some old bloke who invented magical dentures or someone else weird that Tyler hadn't gotten yet. I was about to look away to take out my book, but something caught my eye: two bright green eyes that belonged to the man in the picture shone up at me like emeralds. Those eyes looked awfully familiar . . .

That's when I recognized them as mine.

"They've never printed him before!" said Tyler incredulously. He flipped the card over and read the back aloud:

"Harry Potter: 1980-2004. Famous for killing the dark wizard Lord Voldemort at age 17."  
But I was only half-listening to Tyler--I already knew that bit about my father. That's actually all I knew about him, because no-one's ever really told me much of anything. Tyler turned the card back over and clumsily shoved it into my hand.

I stared blankly at it lying there for a few seconds, still taking in his features—so very much like mine. For once in my life, I didn't feel like the odd one out; I was seeing someone who was like me. "Why are you giving this to me?" I asked finally, not fully understanding. If this was the first time this card was printed, then why didn't he want to add it to his collection?

Tyler snorted disbelievingly and raised his pale eyebrows. "Why am I _giving_ this to you?" he asked incredulously, "He was _your_ dad, not mine."

"But--but wouldn't your mum and dad like to keep it? After all, they were his best friends." Why didn't I want that stupid card anyway? I mean, hadn't I been longing to have a picture of him all my life? _Stop being a prat, Abby, just take it!_

"It's not like my parents don't already have loads of photographs of him." He proclaimed. I must've had a doubtful expression on my face, because he said forcefully, "Look, just take it. Give it to Katelin, or James, or your mum. I don't want to keep it! It just wouldn't feel right . . . after all, you've never even seen a picture of him."

I accepted the card grudgingly. I don't know _why_ I didn't want to keep it. Tyler was right--I had always wanted a picture of him, to see what he looked liked. But suddenly when I looked back at his teenage face, I felt a rush of white-hot anger surging through my veins. Why would I be angry with this man that I'd never met before? If he had defeated the Dark Lord, why did I want to punch his face in?

I shoved the wizard card into my pocket and leaned back against the seat, breathing heavily and scowling deeply. Tyler had already settled into a text book. Tyler has always been a bit of a goody-goody, and maybe that's why I often got frustrated with him. I looked out the window for a short while, but I kept shifting around restlessly, so I decided to go find my brother and sister.

"Oi, where're you going?" Tyler asked curiously when I stood up and opened the sliding compartment door.

"I'm going to go find Katelin and James." I replied haughtily, turning to leave.

"Oh, you might want to bring your luggage with you," he said evenly, ignoring my angry tone, "or the house-elves will think you're a Prefect--I left my stuff in another compartment as well.

I turned around to grab my trunk, but then realised with a horrifying jolt that I hadn't taken it with me when I was blown here. I felt my throat drop down into my stomach. "Oh no!" I gasped, "I must've forgotten it back at the platform!"

"Don't worry;" said Tyler comfortingly, "you can just owl your mum when we get to Hogwarts. I'm sure somebody will find it."

I was still a bit apprehensive, but I left Tyler to his reading and continued walking throughout the train.  
Knowing me and the horrible luck I have, Tyler's prediction about Malfoy came true. I opened the door into a compartment, only to find the three other occupants to be none other than Damian Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, two massive, stupid boys who gave the impression of walking boulders.  
Malfoy's eyes shot upwards from his--it seemed to be some sort of animal skull he was holding?-to see who the visitor was. When he saw that it was me, his lips twisted into a sneer. I mimicked his.

"Weasley," He spat.

"Malfoy," The word leapt from my tongue with all the venom I could muster. Crabbe and Goyle stood up menacingly, punching their fists into their hands and flexing their muscles (bulk) grotesquely.

"So Weasley, word is that you'd missed the train." said Malfoy, examining his fingernails. Upon closer inspection, I realised that they were painted clear, and manicured perfectly. I suppose you had your father get you another train-oh wait, you don't have one, do you?" Crabbe and Goyle laughed stupidly at his remark. _How dare he? That great, bloody slime ball!_ I was about to reply very scathingly, but someone else was quicker.

"You know, it isn't very nice to make fun of someone just because they don't have a father." The girl who had spoken had come from the compartment behind me and was very tall with a dirty blonde braid that fell down to her waist. She looked about my age, and she had a very dreamy expression on her face, and she seemed nice, I suppose.

"No one asked you, Lovegood. If I had wanted a lecture on whom I can or can't make fun of, believe me, I would not have come to you for advice." Malfoy snapped.

Lovegood narrowed her eyes, and her dreamy manner had suddenly evaporated. "And I didn't ask you for that rude comment, Malfoy. Maybe you should think before you open that big, hypocritical mouth of yours." She said coolly.

_Ha! I had an ally who was smart, unlike those boulders Malfoy had beside him. _I didn't bother to stifle my laughter and said, "But how would he be able to think? He hasn't really got much of a brain to think with."

Lovegood smiled and added coolly, "Is that why you have Crabbe and Goyle with you all the time, Malfoy? Do they do all your thinking for you? After all, they are geniuses compared to you."  
Malfoy scowled and stalked out the door, beckoning Crabbe and Goyle to follow. _Oh, how the mighty have fallen . . ._

Lovegood extended her hand and I shook it. "I'm Sharon Lovegood. Well, actually my surname should be Pennifold, as it's my father's name, but I think Lovegood sounds nicer." _Just like me,_ I thought. She sat down on a bench. I was about to introduce myself, but she spoke first. "You're a Potter, aren't you?"  
I was raised my eyebrows, a bit taken aback that she seemed to already know my name. "Yes, I suppose I am, but how--?"

"My mother talks of your family quite often. She was friends with your parents, I think, when they were at Hogwarts. Your mother was in the same year as mine."

"Oh." I said. "But how could you tell I was a Potter?"

Sharon had that dreamy look plastered on her face again. "It's your eyes. They're very distinguishable. Mother says your father's eyes were green as well."

I shrugged, trying not to think of the face on the wizard card. I sat down as well, in the seat across from Sharon. We sat silently for a moment, then:

"Is it true that you've traveled all over the world?"

I nodded and asked, "How did you know?"

"Mother told me," she answered simply. "You know, I _do_ live right near the Burrow, so I've been over there a lot and heard things . . ." I was mildly surprised that I'd never heard of her before, let alone met her, since I used to go to the Burrow a lot back when I was younger.

"Is that why you're wearing first year robes?" she asked pointedly.

"Yes," I said, "But I'm not going to be a first year—I'm going to be a third year." I noticed that she too was wearing the first year tie.

Curiously, I asked, "What year are you in?"

"Oh," Sharon replied, "well, Mother had wanted me to go to Beauxbatons for at least my first three years of schooling, because she was getting married to a French bloke. But I'll be in my fourth year now."

That made me feel a bit better, and less self-conscious about being a new third year. "What house do you want to be in, then?" I asked curiously.

"Ravenclaw," she answered immediately, "but I suppose Hufflepuff wouldn't be too bad, after all, my father was in there." Sharon seemed to be having a difficult time making up her mind, because then she said, "No, no, Gryffindor because it sounds like it would be fun . . . then again, my mother _was_ in Ravenclaw, so I'll probably be placed there." Giving up, she said whilst sighing, "Well, as long as I'm not in Slytherin, then I won't mind."

_Yes, she does seem a bit on the odd side . . . but then, aren't we all, really?_

"What house do _you_ want to be in?" she asked me, smiling.

"Well, all of my family's been in Gryffindor for generations." I said, suddenly getting an anxious pang in the side of my stomach. What if I wasn't put into Gryffindor?? My family would be so disappointed! An even worse thought occurred to me: _what if I was put into SLYTHERIN?_  
"If I had to be put in the same house as _Malfoy_, I would probably leave the school!" Sharon continued in a manner of hyperbole, widening her eyes.

I couldn't agree more with her. The thought of possibly being in Slytherin made my stomach churn terribly, and for a moment I was afraid I was going to be sick. "So would I."

I sat with Sharon for a while, mostly looking out of the dark window in silence, and pretty soon the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station with a shrill whistle.

I stepped off the train with my new friend (_did she even consider me a friend, or just an acquaintance?_), and noticed almost immediately that it was raining quite hard. Sharon retrieved her polka-dotted umbrella from her large robes, and held it over both of us as we made our way through the enormous crowd of students.  
A man with shaggy black hair towered above us all. "Firs' years!" He called over the pouring rain, which was coming down in buckets. The umbrella wasn't really helping us stay dry, so Sharon put it back away in her pocket. "Firs' years, this way!"

"Do we go with him?" I wondered aloud. All the other teenagers were hurrying to get onto a horseless carrage before they got completely soaked, but we weren't really one of them . . . yet. My brother, sister, Sharon and I still had to be sorted.

"I suppose," Sharon answered, but in the bellowing gusts of wind and rain, her response sounded far away. We pushed our way to the crowd toward the giant man, and I realised that this was Hagrid, who I had heard all about from my family.

"Abby!" someone cried behind me, although I could barely hear it above the weather. I spun around, and made Katelin out though the buckets of icy rain coming down upon us, standing behind me with a thoroughly surprised expression on her face. "How did you get here?? Did you get back through the barrier to Mum?"

"I'll tell you later." I replied quietly. Katelin nodded (although I don't think she heard me anyway) and didn't inquire further. "Where's James?" I asked after a moment, noticing that my brother wasn't with Katelin.

"He sort of ditched me." Katelin said darkly. "Ran off with some girl named Evelyn Green. Don't worry, I'm sure he's having a jolly good time--"

"Firs' years, follow me!" Called Hagrid, and led the first years and Katelin, Sharon, and I through a thick forest of dark trees.

Soon our magically moving rowboats rounded the bend, and--there it was: Hogwarts, its infinite glowing windows, lighting our way across the dark water of the lake. "Wow." Many of the first years breathed.

Hagrid led us to a tall, oak front door and rapped his huge fist on it three times. The door swung open, revealing an old woman wearing her hair in a tight knot at the back of her head. "Come inside." She said sternly. _This must be professor McGonagall, if Uncle Ron is to be believed. Wow, she really _does_ look like she's sucking on a lemon! _

We entered into a room that would have been able to fit several large houses inside comfortably. Many puddles formed on the stone floor from our soaking clothes.

The woman led us into a small chamber off of the hall. "Welcome to Hogwarts." She said, the shadow of a smile crossing her face. "I am Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress. There are a few things I must go over with you before the sorting." She cleared her throat loudly. "There are four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin."

My stomach flipped flopped, and by the look on other kid's faces, they were anxious too. I felt eleven all over again. Katelin on the other hand, seemed fairly confident that she would be in Gryffindor. Sharon was looking at the ceiling distantly.

"While you are here, your house will be like your family." McGonagall's speech seemed like it had been rehearsed many times, or she had just said for far too many years. "If you misbehave, you will lose house points for your house, but if you do something worthy of gaining house points, we will award house points to you. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the house cup. I will be back shortly when the sorting is ready."

McGonagall walked over to us, and said in a business-like tone, "You two—where is your brother?" she asked Katelin and I sharply. We both kind of shrugged, and she continued, "Well, make sure you tell him this, because I haven't the time to go searching for him at the moment. Now, you three will be sorted just like the other first years—In the Great Hall with the Sorting Hat. But, it will be announced that you are transfer students, so you'll be learning on a third and fourth year level. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am." Katelin did an army solute. _Oh, dear_. Professor McGonagall definitely seemed like the no-nonsense type of person (and I already had predicted at this point that Katelin and James would most definitely _not_ get along well with her). True enough, the severe-looking professor just glared at Katelin and left the chamber.

As soon as she exited the room, chatter burst out among everyone.

"I know I'll be in Gryffindor." Katelin said confidently, after making a face in the direction which McGonagall had left. "And you will too, of course. I mean, every single Weasley has been in Gryffindor. Come to think of it, so have all the Potters."

"I know you'll be in Gryffindor," I told her anxiously, "but--but what if I get sorted into another house, Kate? Mum and everyone else would be so disappointed!"

Katelin dismissed this question with a wave of her hand. "Don't be silly, Abby, of course you'll be in Gryffindor!"

I sighed, defeated. "I suppose." We both fell silent and I glanced at Sharon, who was still looking at the ceiling, as though it had something very interested on it.

Just as I was about to look up as well to see just what was so interesting, McGonagall came burst dramatically though the doors of the chamber. Sharon focused her attention on the professor. "Follow me." McGonagall said.

We shuffled back through the door into the hall, where each and every footstep hit loudly on the ground, ringing throughout the whole room. The floor was covered in the puddles students had made while walking though it, and knowing me and the luck I have, I slipped and fell flat on my bum._ Nice one, Abby_, I thought to myself as several of those annoying first years giggled behind their hands. _Hmph._

The room we entered a but a moment later was absolutely brilliant! Double cool with knobs. The four ancient wooden tables lined up in a row were filled with the older students, watching us as we strode over to the slightly raised up teacher's table. I began to feel very self-conscious, having all those people scrutinizing me as I walked by. But fortunately for me I lack in height so I blended in nicely with the first years. Katelin and Sharon (and James, who was up in front walking next to a pretty blonde) on the other hand, stood out like beanpoles next to small insects.

Beautiful levitated candles were scattered throughout the room, lighting everything up in their dim, warm glow and the ceiling I had heard about so often was a dark grey at the moment, to match the sky outside.

McGonagall placed a wooden stool upon the raised platform all the teachers were sitting at and placed an old, patched and tattered wizards' hat on top. "When I call your name, kindly step forward and put the hat on your head. When it has said the name of the house you are in, please go the appropriate table. Anderson, Peter?"  
A small boy with raven black hair stepped forward and sat on the stool, carefully sliding the hat onto his head. The hat had barely been on his head for five seconds before it cried, "RAVENCLAW!"

"Boomer, Angelica?" A girl with blonde pigtails placed the hat on her head. It was nearly a whole minute before the hat yelled, "Hufflepuff!"

"Cringly, Stephen?"

"GRYFFINGDOR!"

"Green, Evelyn?" A pretty brunette who looked like she had just had dung shoved under her nose perched herself daintily on the stool, and neatly put the hat upon her head, as to not mess up any of the straight chestnut hairs. _Wow, it's like looking at a female Malfoy, only not platinum-blonde,_ I thought, scrunching up my nose at the thought. It took the hat even longer for Evelyn that for Boomer to decide.  
Soon enough, the hat declared Evelyn a Slytherin. _Yes, definitely a female Malfoy . . ._

Many more students were called up, but I was a bit too nervous to acknowledge them anymore then what houses they were put into. There were four more Slytherins, three more Hufflepuffs, eight more Ravenclaws, and three more Gryffindors. Finally, McGonagall had reached the W's, and my pulse quickened. _Why on earth am I so nervous about a sorting? None of the first years seem to be getting this worked up about the sorting. _

"Whiton, Persephone?"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Weasley, Abigail?"

My stomach churned really badly, and my pulse grew even faster and louder as I stepped up to the stool and placed the hat on my head. I was sure that everyone could hear my heart beating, but try as I might, I could not slow it down. The hat fell over my eyes, so the mass of students disappeared from my line of vision and that did slow my pulse, for a bit.

"Ah," said a quiet voice inside my head. "Another Weasley . . . no, you're more of a Potter, I can tell. I must say, that I questioned being able to sort another one. You are very much like your father--same ambition, same bravery, same cleverness. Ah yes, and there's something else about you . . . you have a certain thirst to prove yourself as a Potter . . . you also hate always being different as well . . . hmm. Yes, there's no doubt about where you belong, my dear. SLYTHERIN is the house for you!"

I froze in horror, and I felt my throat drop into my stomach. I think I stopped breathing at all. Finally, Professor McGonagall had to usher me over to the Slytherin table. It was as if all the things I'd had ever had nightmares about had come true. I couldn't even bear to look at James, Tyler, or Katelin. Not even Sharon, after all she'd said about being put in Slytherin.

I ate my dinner in silence, and vowed never to talk again. Yes, alright, I'm a bit of a drama-queen, but imagine being in my place right now—alone, and in the house against everything my family ever knew.

What had I ever done to deserve Slytherin?

. . .Advice, anyone? Please R&R and I'll love you forever! .


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Aslan belongs to C.S. Lewis.

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so I'll long to get out, but unlike the other two, I had to completely rewrite this one . . . bummer.  I'll try to update faster from now on!! Please enjoy!

I wasn't surprised that Katelin and James had been put into Gryffindor, nor that Sharon had been placed in Ravenclaw. Actually, I barely even registered anything that was going on around me during that horrible, horrible feast. And it would have been quite splendid, too, if I hadn't been eating it at the Slytherin table. Instead, every thing that touched my tongue tasted like lead (and believe me, thanks to James, I've tasted real lead before).

The worst part was, I was going to have to share a common room with Malfoy for the next three years, until he graduated. Oh, fabbity fab fab.

I neither noticed nor cared that no one spoke to me—in fact, I didn't bother trying to speak to anybody anyway. I couldn't even bear to look over at the Gryffindor table, because I knew that if I so much as glanced at my family, I would see expressions of severe dislike upon their faces . . . it was like suddenly living in my worst nightmare, as if everything I ever knew to be terrible and unkind was sitting right here next to me. Alright, call me a Drama Queen, but how would it feel if some stupid hat had just told you that you were everything your family had ever been against? I mean for Merlin's sake, Lord Voldemort_ himself_ had been in Slytherin House!

The rest of the night was a blur to me and I only recall being led down into the dungeons, a place where it was both very cold and so dark that not even the many lanterns bedecked in the corridor lit it up. The Slytherin Common Room and the third-year girls' dormitory were also very cold and dark. I quite clearly remember thinking, 'I can't imagine having to live in this hell-hole for the next five years. This is probably even scarier than the bat caves in Transylvania."

I woke up the next day as if being woken from a dream—well, technically I _was_ being woken from a dream, but my whole situation definitely seemed much more real to me now that I was out of that numb trance I had been in the night before. It was so much harder to accept now.

I kept the (ugly, in my opinion) bottle green hangings shut, so I could delay the time until I would have to get up and greet this new day that was already promising to be dismal. I wondered what was going to happen when I told Mum that I had gotten into Slytherin? Of course, she'd probably say something like, "Oh Abby, we love you no matter house you're in." But I reckon that she still will be disappointed.

Realising with a jolt that I was probably missing breakfast, I quickly ripped the drapes open and crudely dressed myself in my new Slytherin robes. On the way out of the dormitory, I caught site of my self in the large enchanted mirror by the stone door and _jumped for joy_ at the_ beautiful_ colours of silver and green, with the _adorable_ little serpent adorned on them.

Not really, it's just bloody sarcasm.

Down in the Great Hall (and after getting lost numerous times as well) it was almost the end of breakfast by the time I had shuffled in. It was nearly empty at the Slytherin table, but there was a gang of older students near one end of it. I sat down near a surly looking fifth year, but when I distinctly heard her emit a snarl (she _did_!) I edged slightly away from that area as well.

Looking around the rest of the Great Hall, I noticed that James and Katelin were sitting at the Gryffindor table. James, I could tell, was flirting with some pretty blonde girl and Katelin was jabbering away with her newfound friends. My insides writhed (like a great snake, I thought miserably) with sickening green envy. Why did _they _get to have everything? I hadn't even done so much as spoken to anyone in the whole time I'd been at Hogwarts.

Deciding right then and there that I was just going to have to avoid the whole world for the rest of my life (or at least till Christmas break, I figured) I snatched up my toast and third year schedule and hurried to my first lesson—Care of Magical Creatures.

Slytherins and Gryffindors had Care of Magical Creatures together, so I could not avoid Katelin and James for long. As soon as they caught site of me standing apart from my fellow house-mates in the grassy knoll where the class was held, they hurried over with grim and sympathetic looks on their faces.

"Oh Abby," Katelin moaned, hugging me tightly (but more likely squeezing me to death). "We can't _believe_ this, the Sorting Hat must've made a mistake—"

"The Sorting Hat can't make mistakes," I interrupted bitterly.

"Well, a Weasley has never been in any house other than Gryffindor before, so it _must_ have been wrong this time!" Katelin argued, stamping her foot on the ground for effect.

I thought it wise not to add that we weren't Weasleys anyway—or at least, I wasn't.

"Besides," Katelin continued, "Professor Uranus—" (the Headmaster—probably the BUTT of many jokes I had thought amusedly last night before the sorting) "—will _have_ to let you switch houses if we tell him why you can't be with Malfoy . . ."

"Shut up," I whispered sharply and shivered involuntarily remembering the incident.

Katelin eyes fell upon the ground and she muttered, "Sorry."

Noticing that James had not yet spoken in the conversation, I glanced over at him to see what was up. He was, in fact, was still standing beside us, although his thoughts didn't seem to be. I followed his gaze, which landed upon the pretty blonde whom he had been flirting with this morning.

"Who's that girl?" I asked innocently, suppressing a grin, which would have been my first one since yesterday afternoon.

James jerked out of his trance and snapped, "No one."

All my morning classes were a bit dull (especially potions, of course, because that Professor Finetra has no clue about the what the hell she's teaching—I don't think she even knows the general properties of wolfsbane, which is first-year material. I've been told that my dad hated potions, or at least was terrible at it . . . there's one thing that's different about me from him) and no one in my house spoke to me. Up until lunch, that is.

"Hey—hey, Weasley!" called a girl presumably in my year from across the table in the middle of lunch. My eyes snapped up from my chips to see who had said my name—the speaker had an unpleasant face, and in great need of some serious dental work. "Is it true that your father was Harry Potter?"

Well, that certainly silenced the whole table. A few people from the Ravenclaw table ceased their talking as well and turned their eyes on me.

I just nodded and returned to my chips.

But the girl continued, "Potter and your mother never _did _get married did they? So that makes you a love-child, right?" Laughing cruelly as if it were all a funny joke, the homely girl sat back down and resumed her conversation with her friends.

I could sense that familiar prickling of tears behind my eyes, and the sting of them behind my nose. White hot anger was bubbling inside me, and I longed to go right over there and hit her, as hard as I could. But I didn't, for two reasons: one, because she was about three times the size of me, and two, someone had tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

The someone who had tapped me was a fourth-year boy with dark auburn hair. When he spoke, I had expected his voice to be nasty and teasing just like that girl's but, thank Merlin, I was taken by surprise. There was a certain kindness in his voice that I would not have expected out of a Slytherin.

"Look," he said, gazing meaningfully at me. "Don't mind Pricilla Kuch, over there. She's a right little arse if I've ever met one. She really gives Slytherin a bad name . . . her and Malfoy." He added as an afterthought. "And if she gives you any more crap, I know a few useful hexes that I could teach you."

I smiled at him. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," the boy said, and took a bit of corned beef off his plate to eat. "I'm Travis Welling, by the way."

"Abby Weasley," I said.

Travis swallowed his wad of corned beef and replied, "Yeah, I know. The guys in my year were talking about you this morning at breakfast."

"What did they say?" I asked curiously—I can never resist hearing what people say about me. It's a weird habit I have, but I suppose I also wondered how those fourth-year boys new who I was anyway.

Travis turned red, but remained cool when he spoke. I wish I could do that. "Well . . . they were saying how it was odd that a Weasley had gotten intothis house. . . and, they were also saying that you were the sexiest witch in Slytherin . . ."

Icoughed akwardly. _Great_, I thought sarcastically. Now I'm going to be teased _and_ seduced.

". . . _Not_ that I was saying it or anything," Travis added hastily and stuffed another corned beef wad into his mouth.

_Well, thanks for the compliment, Travis_, I thought a bit dejectedly before I caught myself and changed the subject. "Do you know if there're going to be Quidditch try-outs soon?"

Travis's face brightened up at the mention of Quidditch. "Of course! Are you going to try out?"

"I'm thinking about it," I said aloud before I realised the absurdity of it. How could I betray Katelin and James like that and try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team? But then I looked at Travis's kind face and decided that I would. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone in Slytherin was so bad after all . . .

Alright, please R&R and I'll try to get the next chapter out faster!!


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